


A Descent to Madness - Wilbur Soot, Dream SMP

by makwritesstuff



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dream Smp, Edgar Allen Poe quotes, Gen, Insane Wilbur Soot, Light Angst, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Oscar Wilde quotes, Pre-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot - Freeform, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, sleepy bois inc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28994520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makwritesstuff/pseuds/makwritesstuff
Summary: Wilbur Soot is in a constant state of imagining the obliteration of L'Manburg, to the point where he becomes self-destructive. He notices himself giving in to insanity and tries to fix himself, but the question is: does he succeed, or does he return to his obsessive ways?Pretentious quotes from famous 19th century writings and good ol' insane Wilbur, the best combination if you ask me. :)Sticks to the basic plot of the Dream SMP, but I added a bunch of my own lil' spins on the story.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur is a broken man, and he's completely aware of the fact, still he's trying and sometimes that's all you have to do.

**_"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." -Edgar Allen Poe_ **

Wilbur Soot lived in a haze, his mind clouded with thoughts and hallucinations. These thoughts haunted him like the ghost that he'd soon become, if only he knew just how soon it would be. These thoughts consisted of destruction, he existed in a constant state of imagining the obliteration of a place once called "L'Manburg", or more simply, "home". He didn't consider this place a home, at least not anymore, a home is being wrapped in a blanket, sitting by the fire with a warm cup of hot cocoa, surrounded by the people you love. This place, however, had become corrupted, and the worst part is: it's all because of himself. 

He had once been a great ruler, or at least, that's what people told him. From Wilbur's point of view, he had been a selfish and arrogant bastard, hungry for the power and respect he had never gotten in life. It took him awhile to realize this, so long that by the time he had come to this conclusion, he was being exiled from the place he had built with his own two scarred hands, hands that have been through many a battle to fight for the independence of L'Manburg. 

Wilbur knew deep-down he was going insane, he knew that his behavior had turned self-destructive, and he knew he was distancing himself from reality, because why would you want to live in a reality where everyone despises you? He never slept and he knew the few people that cared to stay by his side were noticing the deep, dark circles forming under his weary eyes, saw them notice as he got thinner with each passing day, and how he'd often disappear for hours on end without telling anyone where he was going. They never asked questions though, Wilbur was thankful for that, as he would have no response. 

He composed himself around people, or at least he tried, sometimes he'd slip up and stare off into the distance for prolonged amounts of time or (and this was the worst) he'd start verbalizing the thoughts in his head. He'd scream about how the world has gone to shit and how L'Manburg has become corrupted and deserves to explode, the only thing left being a gaping hole where a brightly colored flag had once towered over the land. This had only happened a couple times but he hated it, he hated the way they'd look at him and call him "insane" or "a freak". Why is it that the insults that are completely true hurt the most? 

I walked through the woods, finding comfort within the redwood trees blocking the sun from view, casting vast shadows across the moss-coated ground. It was times like these where I could escape the fog that encased my mind and vision, even if it was only for a rather small portion of time. I saw a shimmer from within the trees, curiosity overcame rationality and I pushed a few branches to the side, revealing a small lake, not the miniscule size of a pond, but you could easily see the other side. The sun shone across the water, little groups of flowers poked out of nearby bushes, and the entire lake was surrounded by skyscraping trees. It reminded me of L'Manburg before we had covered it with buildings and walls, carefree days of laughter with my younger brothers by my side. I easily slipped between the trees due to my slender frame and looked down into the deep water, swirling colors of emerald green and ultramarine stared at me from below, but within the swirling colors was a man I couldn't recognize. His hair was unkept and dirty, covering a large portion of his face, his eyes reminded me of the afternoon sun shining through a glass of whiskey yet just below those eyes were dark circles provoking the idea he hadn't slept in days. He wore a filthy oversized coat that he couldn't seem to take off, and his shirt blood stained from many injuries, a result of his exile. He was way too tall and his pants would never reach past his ankles, he didn't like this about himself, he'd always get made fun of for it. Despite not recognizing him, I knew his name all too well, this man was me. 

I sat with him for awhile and talked to him, I knew no one could hear me all the way out here, so I told him my feelings, how messy my head has been recently, he didn't respond but I was alright with that, he's the only one that listens to me. As I talked to him I became more aware of myself, the fog was so far gone, I could feel the rumble in my stomach, the exhaustion consuming me. So, for the first time in a very long time, I listened.

I made a mental map of where this hidden cove had been, swearing to come back as it had been the first place I've felt safe since childhood. _Childhood_ , a distant yet still vibrant memory. A memory of my younger brother, Tommy, with his honey-colored curly hair that would bounce as he laughed his high-pitched laugh, my other younger brother, Tubbo, this one adopted but still fit perfectly with our family, he has these expressive and large blue eyes that sparkled with childlike curiosity. My father, Phil, although he wasn't around much and was always going on these extensive trips with his friend, Technoblade or just simply "Techno". Phil radiates an energy of comfort and safety, and he has the same honey-colored hair as Tommy. Techno on the other hand, is a tall (though not as tall as me) and serious man, but he's like my older brother, he expresses himself as though he's elegant and dangerous, but when you get to know him as much as I have, you learn he's just a giant nerd with _a little_ experience with a sword. Recently, Technoblade has helped me and Tommy out a lot, he made us an underground potato farm within the ravine we had claimed as our own and promised to help us in battle the day we "finally take back L'Manburg" as Tommy would word it. In my messed up head, it's an excuse to get everyone in one place and blow L'Manburg to smithereens, I even told him this in one night in a sort of frenzied fashion, but still told him nevertheless. 

I made my way to our quaint ravine, it was about evening by now, the sun setting in the horizon painting the sky with streaks of violet, scarlet, and gold, decorated with tiny stars. I tiptoed down the stairs spiraling down the cave, trying to go unnoticed, and I almost would've gone unnoticed but as I took a bite out of some sort of strawberry-filled pastry presumably from Niki's bakery, Tubbo practically skipped down the stairs. He was always in such an optimistic mood, I envied him for that. "'Ello Wilbur! Oh you're eating, haven't seen you do that in awhile. I'm proud of you Will!" and like that he ran off. It was such a simple set of words, but sometimes the simplest words can break you. 

It was then, I decided to try making myself better again. And slowly, very slowly, I did. I started eating more, I'd help Techno grow potatoes, I was terrible at it but he didn't seem to mind, and afterwards when a potato was ready to be picked, I'd bake it and me and him would eat together in comfortable silence. Niki would deliver more pastries to our little cave with no charge, which I'd feel terrible about only for her to reassure me that it's fine, Niki's one of those people where trusting her comes extremely easy even through my trust issues. Then, I started sleeping more, the bags under my eyes slowly losing their darkness though still visible. I was so sleep deprived that in those first couple days of giving in to the exhaustion, I'd sleep for up to 20 hours at a time. In a morbid and peculiar way, I learned to love sleep, loved drifting away and not having to think, because thinking meant the fog would consume my mind again. It started making me believe that once I die, the fog will finally go away and my mind will be at peace, and sometimes, though I never admitted it- I longed for the day. 

_**"Sleep, those little slices of death --how I loathe them." -Edgar Allen Poe** _


	2. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur talks to an old friend about the things he's dealing with, something that takes immeasurable courage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next few chapters (including this one) are going to be quite dialogue-based, so sorry about that! i'm gonna be trying to develop characters a bit before i get into the fun death stuff ;D

I was sitting in the corner of our little room we use to plant potatoes, watching Techno water the plants as if it were a fine art, when suddenly I blurted out in a sort of jumbled way, "I get these pictures in my head sometimes- a-and they won't go away no matter how hard I try-" Techno nodded his head and sighed before turning to face me, "Yep, me too. They're uh- just a bit different I s'pose, more like voices than pictures." Although I'm embarrassed to admit it, my mouth was hanging open in shock, I wasn't expecting him to be so- chill about it? Let alone him experiencing the same thing in some way or another. "What do they say?" I asked simply. He responded in a way that'd make you think this was just your average Wednesday afternoon conversation, "A 'buncha things, mostly uh- _blood, death, violence, and- uh- sometimes it's just constant screaming_. Y'know, average stuff." he continued, "What do you see? If ya don't mind me askin'." I slowly inhaled and exhaled, I need to tell someone before this gets out of hand, and this is my one opportunity. So I took it. "Well- uhm- they get so vivid it's almost like hallucinating sometimes because I- uh- can't tell the difference between my mind and reality at times-" My hands started shaking so I tried to focus on Techno's eyes as I spoke to him, something I was often told I didn't do. "It's where I-I'm in this room in L'Manburg- Manburg- sorry." I hated calling it "Manburg" I hated it so much, it's what Schlatt renamed it to after winning the election. It's so plain, yet it's harsh syllables suit the nation that it's become. "-and there's this giant hole in one of the walls, a-and all I can hear are explosions and screams- my-my friends dying, and Phil's there and I'm pleading for him to kill me I- Techno in the vision I can feel his sword stab through my chest, i-it feels so real and-and-" I broke down in sobs, feeling my entire body shake. I've never explained it before, never faced it before, and I was overwhelmed with the fear of living through it- the fear of seeing those very images flash through my mind. The worst part is, they seem more like memories than a nightmare.

"Wilbur- Wilbur it's okay. It's gonna be okay, alright?" I looked up to see Techno crouched down with his hands on my shoulders, looking right into my eyes. His voice reminded me of steam pouring out of a mug full of earl grey tea on a rainy day, he's like my older brother and for a second, I felt like a kid again. A defenseless and scared little kid, because when it comes down to it- that's all I am; defenseless and scared with no way to express my thoughts and emotions without breaking down. Growing up I had to care for myself, had to learn everything by myself, and had no one to turn to when I had a bad dream. Saying Phil wasn't around very often growing up would be an _understatement_ , he was almost never there and we all knew that he considered Technoblade his son more than he considered us, his actual sons, as family. So, I raised Tommy and Tubbo, I taught them how to survive, something that Phil had never cared to do. Of course, Phil isn't a bad guy and I'm sure his intentions are more than good, after all, whenever he was around was when I felt truly safe. I know that Phil will always protect me, he's my dad after all.

Eventually I calmed down, I was grateful for Techno, despite being envious of him in my youth I had grown to trust him, and trust is one of those things that mean a lot to me, because despite how blurred my perception of reality is, it reminds me that I'm still human. Despite everything, I'm still human and I'm still alive.

**_"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people just simply exist, that is all." -Oscar Wilde_ **


End file.
